


Falling

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: The Lord and Ladies of Hell [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 00:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6032278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>For a single instant, he imagined her facing his Father and giving him a piece of her mind.</em>
</p><p>Lucifer's thoughts during the wing scars scene in 1x4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

"I mean, look at me."

Looking back, that was where he'd made his mistake. Not that he could have known – he'd had thousands of men, women and those unwilling to specify stare at his naked body since he'd come topside, and not one of them had ever commented on the scars. He was used to people seeing exactly what he wanted them to.

But Chloe Decker, his own personal tormentor, had zeroed right in on the last detail he'd wanted her to notice. He hadn't realized it at first – shock wasn't an uncommon expression when someone was first confronted with his naked magnificence – but the half-aborted question made it clear what she was talking about.

His wings. Or, more specifically, the scars that were all that was left of them.

_"You don't need to do this." Maze's hand was firm on his shoulder. "We're out, and there's nothing he can do about it. You're defying him as much by keeping them as you are by getting rid of them."_

_Lucifer didn't respond, staring out into the water that even in the dark had so much more color than anything in Hell did. His wings were out, gleaming in the moonlight and stretched wide to catch even the slightest breeze, but they still ached the same way they had for millennia. Wings were useless in Hell, and every shift of muscle and brush of feather against his skin that had once been a joy had transformed into a reminder of everything he'd lost. A piece of himself, turned into a punishment._

_He could take flight right now, and no one would stop him. But the ache, he knew, would never go away._

_Unless he cut it away himself. He would never get back what he lost, but he could stop his Father from punishing him with every breath he took. He could free himself, at least that much._

_He dropped to his knees. "Do it."_

Lucifer watched her face, the flippant responses on the tip of his tongue a defensive reflex that he hoped desperately would distract her. Another argument about his true nature would be infinitely preferable to the terrifying softness in her eyes, the ghost of righteous fury in her voice when she said "Your dad did that to you."

He stumbled over his next words, so caught by the certainty that she would have been more than happy to track down the elderly mortal she imagined had been the cause of those scars. He threw in a quick defense of Maze, no longer certain that the lack of mortality would be enough to stop her.

For a single instant, he imagined her facing his Father and giving him a piece of her mind.

That was his second mistake, as it turned out. Because she was still pressing, had him turned around and was reaching to touch the scar. Which should have been nothing, really – they'd been touched before, hands roaming his naked back or curving their nails into his muscles. Slaps and strokes and gouges, but not fingertips so gentle and light she seemed afraid she'd break him. Not the concern radiating out of her face, as if her heart was breaking at the very thought of whatever had happened to him. As if she could heal him, somehow....

Something snapped inside him, and before he could even think his hand had whipped around to grab her wrist. They were frozen, staring at each other, and if the universe had been at all merciful she would have yanked her wrist from his hand and shouted at him again. But there was no anger in her face, only that lethal concern, and the words tumbled out from the raw place inside him he'd convinced himself no longer existed. "Don't." Then, softer. "Please."

She couldn't know he hadn't said that word in millennia.

But maybe she did, because something that looked horrifyingly like understanding filled her eyes. No, more than that – as if she could see _inside_ him, back through the ages to the broken angel he'd once been. As if... as if....

No, no. He was hallucinating things. This couldn't be possible.

They pulled away from each other, tripping over words like idiot humans dancing around an awkward sexual encounter. He needed to be away, not touching her and not quite so naked (words he never imagined would even cross his thoughts). It was a momentary aberration. Then he'd be fine.

He was the Lord of Hell, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my new original fiction on my [blog](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)


End file.
